CCC

300 blogs done and dusted then.
I'm a bit pissed on home-brew, brought in dusty bottles from the home of the youngest (I think) of Ted and Beryl's offspring. One of these days I'll have to paint a clearer picture of the family tree so you know more about those of which I speak. Especially if we're going to keep on being invited to these little shindigs. Hannah got drunk and burst into tears, then had to explain to everyone about Nathan, and then had to convince Ted not to drive her to 'whichever church the little faggot is hiding in' for fear of an unwanted violent end to the whole affair. I think she's gonna try and call him again tomorrow. I hope so. The longer she spends without him, the more obvious it becomes that she wants to be with him again, and the more intense and annoying her tearful whining about loneliness becomes. God, I'm a supportive brother.
The chess tournament that I was dreading never materialized. We had a game of something called 'Newmarket' instead. It seemed to involve betting on whether a card that had already been removed from the pack was likely to turn up or not, but in truth was just an excuse for a dozen people to sit around a table and swap stories, and that was fine by me.
I can't decide whether I need another drink, or to go to bed. Why is life so complicated when you're drunk?
And that's 301.

RC 4-4-10